Hope Rising
by ForsakenKalika
Summary: Someone unexpected comes to Sunnydale. Who is she, and why does Spike act so strange around her?
1. Chapter 1

Title: Hope Rising  
  
Author: Kalika  
  
Summary: Someone unexpected comes to Sunnydale. Who is she, and  
why is Spike acting strange around her.  
  
Author's Notes: Hey all, this is my first Buffy fic. Yay me. Anyway, this  
is fictional, but does have some episode truths in it.  
  
Disclaimer: This is all Joss Whedon's. I own none of it, except Hope. I own  
her. She's my bitch.  
  
Let's get on with it, eh?  
  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
  
Sunnydale Bus Depot. Lovely place, if you're dead or blind. The   
newly arrived tourists to Hell on Earth gazed around, thinking it looked  
just like a normal town. Like Detroit, or Boulder.   
One of the passengers, a short brunette, laughed sardonically  
at the reactions of the others. 'Yep, like any other town, just with, ya know,  
demons and vampires and other creepy crawlies,' she thought. With that,  
she hefted her dufflebag and began to walk. Her auburn hair was cropped  
short and her almond shaped green eyes surveyed the landscape.  
"Maybe I'll run in to him tonight, if I'm lucky," she said to no one  
in particular. Passing a small shoppe, she stopped and turned. 'Some  
energy this place has,' and with that thought, she walked back a few paces  
and into the store.   
"The Magic Box, eh? Probably just another hokey Wicca festival,"  
said muttered disdainfully whilst walking in. As soon as she entered, however,  
her eyes roved the shelves in wonder. Soon, a bouncing blonde came up to  
her smiling falsely.  
"Do you need my assistance locating something?" Yep, this girl  
was a bit off. Her nameplate read 'Anya'.  
"So you're the demon-gone-human, eh? Bloody hell, you've grown  
up a bit. I haven't seen you since you were exacting vengeance on your first  
unfaithful man. And now you're all human. Seems like only yesterday that  
little Anyanka recieved her pendant." At the look on the girl's face, shock  
and confusion, mixed with some recognition, Hope knew she had spoken  
too much.  
"Wh-who are you? How do you know so much? Are you a spy?"  
Hope laughed and shook her head. "No Anya... I'm... you see...  
oh, sod it! I'm Hope, you met me long ago. I was an... aquaintance of  
Tall, Dark, and Scaly's." She referred to her old nickname for D'Hoffryn.  
At this, Anya gaped and burst out laughing.   
When the ex-demon's laughter subsided, she gave Hope a once  
over and pulled her into an all-too-human hug. "Hope, I remember now. How  
are you? What have you been keeping yourself occupied with all these years?"  
"Okay, so you don't quite have the human thing down, but you look   
good. Not a day over 200, I'd say," she paused and sighed, running a small  
hand through her short hair. "I've been travelling around, actually. I heard  
word that William was here, so I decided to stop in and surprise him."  
"Oh, he'll be surprised, I gather," Anya stated plainly. "Actually,  
he'll be by in about an hour, so if you'd like to wait, you can help me with  
consumers, er, *customers*. Perhaps we'll get more business."  
Anya seemed displeased that customers would often enter and  
give her strange looks for her manner of speaking. She didn't see the   
point in sugar coating. They wanted goods, she had goods, and for a small  
(or sometimes large) amount of money, they could have the goods for their  
own use.  
"You just have an unnatural way of speaking, Anyanka. It takes a  
bit of getting used to. Plus, you've always been honest, and many people  
aren't used to that, as well. I bet you have many repeat customers, don't  
you?" At the blonde's nod, Hope continued, "It's because of that honesty  
and your amiable nature, not to mention your knowledge on magickal  
periphenalia. You're knowledgeable, and people like salespeople who  
know that they're talking about."  
"How can I make first time customers feel more welcome,   
though?"  
Hope grinned, "Simple, when they walk in, let them wander for  
a few minutes. If they're looking for something specific, they'll ask you  
where to find it. If they seem unsure, approach them, and ask them,  
'Hi, is there something I can help you with?' or 'Hi? What can I do for  
you?' It makes them feel like their needs are more important."  
Anya nodded, but seemed a bit confused. "What if they have  
a spell in mind, but don't know the components for it? Or have the wrong  
component?"  
"Well, if they have an ingredient that isn't as effective, gently  
suggest a different ingredient, citing that it will work better for them. If they  
don't know the spell they need, but know the results they want, let them  
know in a friendly way the spell components and the exact spell they need.  
Do you have a photocopier?"  
"Yes, it's upstair with the rest of the books."  
"Then offer to photocopy the spell for them."  
"But isn't that subservient?"  
"That's the point of being a salesperson. You are here to let them  
know what they would need for a certain spell, what spell they would need  
to gain certain results, and basically help them."  
"Oh. That would mean that I've only been getting the job half-right  
all this time." Anya muttered, depressed. Hope put an arm around Anya's  
shoulder and led her behind the counter.  
"You'll get it right in time. Besides, you do well with the half you've  
gotten right." Anya smiled slightly and nodded. "Now, what's with this human  
thing? From what I hear, you've become human twice now."  
"Yes, well, the first time, my pendant was broken. The second time,  
I.. fell in love with a mortal." Expecting a shocked or angered string of  
expletives to erupt from Hope's mouth, Anya grimace and cringed.  
"Oh. Cool. Is he nice?"   
"Yes, but, Hope, you've changed. You'd have killed me for saying  
that a couple centuries ago."  
"Hmm... that was then, this is now. Now, If you'll excuse me, I  
have to find a hotel to stay in while I'm here. Bloody places smell of cheap  
perfume and pretenses. Reminds me of a Cajun I once new."  
"Hope, do you realize you slipped in and out of your accent?"  
"More like triple backflipped," a voice said from behind Hope. She  
turned and met a pair of brownish-hazel eyes.  
"Oh! I'm sorry, did you need anything, sir?" He smirked at her  
slightly reproachful behaviour.  
"Simply my girlfriend from behind the counter."  
"You're the boyfriend!" She turned to Anya, "Oh, he's cute. Good  
choice, Aun."  
She turned back around and he extended his hand, "Xander Harris,  
boyfriend and contractor extraordinaire. Pleased to meet ya... ehh...??"  
"Hope," she supplied with a small laugh. "I'm Hope, don't have a  
last name, but I slice, I dice, and I make julienne fries. Not to mention a pretty  
mean Manhattan. I'm a friend of Anya's."  
"Cool, so what's with the schitzo accent thing?"  
"I've lived just about everywhere, so my accent comes and goes."  
"Hope needs a place to stay, so I was thinking of taking her in while  
she visits."  
"Aun, is she? Hope, when you said friend, did you mean demony   
goodness?"  
"Kind of, yes, but I'm not demon completely. I was borne about  
two hundred years ago, when I was 5. I was dying of cancer, and I was  
offered to live again. I accepted and the only stipulation is that I age  
slower than everyone else."  
"When you say older, you mean..."  
"I've aged fourteen mortal years in the span of two hundred years."  
"Good to know. So you're not evil?"  
"No, just plain ol' Hope."  
"Okay, Aun, she's good. Definitely roommate material." Xander   
turned to Hope and motioned at Anya. "You're staying with her, right? I  
would say that you're the most normal friend, and you seem like a good  
influence, and..."  
"Xan?"  
"Yeah, Aun?"  
"When did you turn into my mom?" He did a double take at her  
pleasantly normal speech. His head swiveled between Anya and Hope,  
confused.   
Finally, words came out. Pointing at Hope, wagging his finger,  
he said in a low voice, "You... you're good. You're staying with her."  
"Yes'm," Hope replied with a grin and salute. Anya snickered  
and pretended to find something behind the counter.  
"Women..." he muttered. He soon realized that both Anya and  
Hope were glaring at him. He chuckled nervously, "They deserve the  
world?" The two women exchanged glances and nodded complacently,  
going back to what they were doing.  
  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
  
"Anya, that was fabulous!" Xander exclaimed, relishing the taste  
still left in his mouth from dinner. Poached salmon with lemon and orange  
marinade and rosemary, red wine, and baked potatoes. For dessert, a  
rich chocolate mousse. All made by Anya.   
"Hope taught me. Actually, she just gave me a recipe book I  
could understand. There's none of that 'pinch of this', 'teaspoon of that'  
language. I can understand the measurements of ingredients now. It's  
now 'a dorankyo of this', 'a moulsith of that'."  
"Aun, I think your cooking before was great, and you're a  
wonderful person. I also think Hope brings out the best in you. You seem  
happier with who you are and where you're at in life, and not so... out of  
touch with reality."  
Anya smiled and blushed a bit, turning around to do the dishes.  
Xander came up behind her and put his arms around her waist and on her  
hands. "Let me," he whispered, and gently put his hands back on her waist,  
slightly moving her. "You relax, and I'll do the dishes." Anya reached up and  
kissed his earlobe lightly. "Now now, you do that and no dishes will get  
done, also, no relaxing."   
"Alexander Harris, one would think that was a threat," she  
smiled, feigning innocence.  
He kissed her full on the lips and grinned, "More like a   
promise." Sure enough, no dishes were done that night, and definitely no  
one relaxed.   
Hope grinned as she moved away from the scrying pool. Anya  
deserved to be happier, she deserved to be human and have Xander  
and be happy and have many babies.  
She had lied to Anya about going out to see the sights, and  
had actually taken her key to get into the Magic Box. There, she   
could scrye in peace.  
William had never showed up to the shoppe that day, as he  
was supposed to. Anya supposed he had slept in, meaning he was  
now a vampire. 'Wonderful,' the half-demon thought to herself. For  
centuries, she had lied to Anyanka, and now, she lied to the  
ex-demon's soulmate.  
Cursing under her breath in Draconic, she ended the flow  
of energies that had been coursing through her. "I'm gettin' too old  
for this crap," and with that sentence, she had closed up the  
shoppe and walked toward the sound of thumping bass and many  
voices.  
"When the cat's away, the mice will play. Honey, I'm home,"  
she said to herself as she caught sight of the Bronze. Sunnydale  
had a nightlife after all.  
  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
  
Let me know what you think. Review or email me at kalika26@excite.com 


	2. Chapter 2

Title: Hope Rising, Chapter 2  
  
Author: Kalika (http://forsaken-kalika.envy.nu)  
  
Summary: Someone unexpected comes to Sunnydale. Who is she, and  
why is Spike acting strange around her.  
  
Author's Notes: Chapter two! Woo! It took me two hours to write chapter  
one. Jeez! Anyway, Hope is a character based off of me (egocentric much?)  
but if you've noticed, she's not who she seems to be.  
Oh, and Hope said earlier that she remembered when Anya was a young'un.  
You'll understand why she's only 200-some odd years in a bit.  
  
Disclaimer: I don't own it. Don't sue me. But Hope... she is mine... ALL MINE!  
MWAHAHAH*cough*crazy*cough* I also stole some concepts from other  
writers. Just letting you know they aren't mine.  
  
"Seeing is decieving" -Emily Strange  
  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
  
As Hope made her way through the throng of people outside The Bronze,  
two people were already inside and getting drinks. One, a short blonde with   
shoulder-length hair turned to a tall, blonde man and nodded to a comment he'd  
made as they ordered their drinks.  
  
"Yes Spike, I understand that Billy Idol copied your hair colour, but  
really, do you have to bring that up every time a punk band plays here?"  
  
"Well, luv, it just seems like everyone is copying after Billy, who  
copied his style from me. I'm not original anymore."  
  
The blonde woman sighed and walked back to the table, barely  
sidestepping a pair of dancers. She turned, "Spike, why don't you dye your  
hair blue or something. Some completely unnatural shade. Not that bleach-  
blonde isn't unnatural or anything. But do something, I can't take your   
whining."  
"Oh I see, the Slayer can piss and moan all she wants, but when  
her vampy boyfriend does it, it's unacceptable. Buffy, when are you going to  
learn that I have soddin' feelings too?" The comment was only meant as a joke,  
but Buffy had taken it completely seriously.  
  
"Spike, two things. You're not my boyfriend, and you're a vampire,  
you're not supposed to have feelings." She sipped at her drink and made  
a face. "This is yours," she said, as she switched the Jack Daniels for her  
Southern Beer.  
  
"I don't know how you can drink that, luv. Southern Comfort and  
Rootbeer Schnapps? It's a travesty to liquor."  
  
"Says he with the whiskey. You remind me of my grandfather." He  
feigned offense and grinned roguishly.  
  
"I'm older and significantly more attractive, I hope."  
  
"Actually," Buffy began, "My grandfather has this thing where he's  
not a member of Bloodsuckers Anonymous."  
  
"The bloody twelve step programme they have is hell," Spike   
commented nonchalantly.  
  
"Step one, humans equal fluffy bunnies. Fluffy bunnies good. Humans  
good. Step two..." Buffy smirked and sipped her drink again.  
  
"No, really, luv, it's Hell. They call it a vacation. I'd rather go to Tahiti.  
At least the room and board are nicer."  
  
"Plus, you can relate to the mosquitoes. Being second cousins and  
all... I'm sure you'd have oodles to talk about. Ya know, hey Merle, how're the  
offspring?"   
  
"She Who Induces Death made a funny. Isn't that adorable?" Buffy  
made a face at him and continued sipping her drink, which was becoming   
more watery as her ice melted quickly with the heat in the club.  
  
As she finished, she looked up at Spike, still halfway through his  
J.D. and shook her head.  
  
"What, Slayer?"  
  
"Can't you ever just call me something run-of-the-mill? Like honey  
or sweetie, or snugglemuffin?"  
  
"No, that takes all the fun out of... whatever we have."  
  
"Shut up and finish your drink."  
  
"Why?"  
  
"So that we can dance." It was then that Spike became aware of  
the slow song playing. He quickly finished his drink and took Buffy by the  
hand to dance. Their bodies melded together in syncopated passion and  
their fingers intertwined.  
  
Spike breathed in the scent of Buffy's hair and smiled. "What?"  
she asked.  
  
"You smell nice."  
  
She hid a visible blush and smiled slightly. "Thank you," came   
the muffled reply from the folds of his deep red shirt. He smelled of smoke  
and Aspen cologne. Buffy's favourite scents. Or at least, now they were.  
She'd never be able to tell him how she felt. He was Spike. He tried to kill  
her and her friends, her family, everyone she held close.   
  
But something had changed inside him and she wanted to know  
what.  
  
Suddenly, Spike tensed. She looked up and he was staring off  
at something. She then realized that they hadn't been dancing for at least  
a minute. "Spike? What is it?"  
  
Buffy turned and her eyes shifted around the room. They landed  
on a girl, about her own height, with long auburn hair and green eyes. Said  
girl had to have only been nineteen, twenty at most.   
  
Suddenly, the girl turned and walked out of The Bronze, or at  
least began to, before Spike went after her.   
  
'I'm not jealous, I'm not jealous, I'm not jealous...' Buffy repeated  
mentally.   
  
"Sod it, I'm jealous. Oh great, now I even sound like him," she  
muttered as she went after Spike and the girl.  
  
As she stepped outside, she caught sight of Spike standing at  
the end of the street, still following the girl. "Spike!" she called. He stopped  
and waited for her. "Spike, who was that?"  
  
"Buffy, she looked... like... there she is again!" And with that, he  
took off after her, Buffy fast on his heels.  
  
They finally caught up with the girl near the high school. She was  
leaning against the railing of the staircase, smoking a cigarette. She looked  
up and smiled at Spike.   
  
"Well, well, well... William. Long time, no talky. I wouldn't have  
recognized you without that soul." Buffy came up behind Spike and a look  
of astonishment crossed her face.   
  
"You have a soul now?" The girl appeared confused.  
  
"He didn't have one before?"  
  
"Not really, but that's beside the point. Who are you?"  
  
"Emma," Spike supplied.  
  
"Who-ma?" Buffy questioned with the feeling that she was more  
than just out of the loop. In fact, the entire loop closed and she was outside  
the circle.  
  
"I'm his sister." Spike sat and searched for his cigarettes. "I go  
by Hope now. Oh for Christ's sake, here!" She handed him a cigarette  
which he promptly lit and puffed on.   
  
He looked up at her, and stole the cigarette from her fingers. "These  
things cause cancer, ya know."  
  
She looked down and stole it back, "Too late for that."  
  
Buffy sat next to Spike and threaded her arm through his. "So, are  
we talking literal sister? And if so, are you vampy or demonish, because I  
want to know if the whole vampire thing is a family trait."  
  
Spike remained silent, which worried Buffy. In fact, that cigarette  
in his hands was looking pretty tempting, if she didn't say so. And if he  
didn't say something soon, she'd steal it right from him.   
  
"Literal sister," Hope replied, "and I'm half-demon. I was in the  
area and just thought I'd see my good ol' brother William. Heard some  
stories about you, I did."  
  
Spike still hadn't said anything yet, and Buffy did as she mentally  
promised herself. She stole his cigarette and took a drag. Immediately,   
she coughed. "You're lucky, your lungs don't work and you're already dead."  
  
He looked at her with a sadness and confusion in his eyes that  
frightened her. It took alot to frighten her, especially from Spike, and that  
did it. 'Johnny, tell him what he's won,' she thought ironically.  
  
Buffy was about to open her mouth and say something to Hope,  
but the girl had disappeared. Spike realized that too, and rose from the  
steps to walk in the direction of his crypt.   
  
"Spike? Don't you think you should be walking the other way? I  
mean, to get home and all?" Spike had been living in Buffy's basement for  
the past couple of months now, and she'd gotten used to him.  
  
He looked up at her, a single tear escaping his left eye. "No,  
I'm going the right way." With that, he turned and walked off.   
  
As Buffy stared after him, she unconsciously shivered and  
tightened her grip on herself. "Oh, Spike," she said under her breath. She  
didn't know what was going on, but she'd never seen him like this. Not  
even over Dru.  
  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
  
"Willow, you've been doing magick again," Tara said knowingly.  
  
The redhead looked up from the book she was reading and cocked  
her head. "What are you talking about?" Over the years, she'd gotten good  
at lying. Though she didn't do it often, she knew the value of a well-placed  
mistruth.  
  
"I know you have because my incense burner is still warm." Tara  
smirked a bit, knowing she wasn't the least bit mad, but then her face  
straightened. "Next time, just ask, hun."  
  
"Sweetheart, I haven't been doing magick. I lit some incense  
for my bath earlier." Willow replied, her eyes never wavering. She had lit  
then incense for her bath, but the bath was meant to cleanse her after  
her glamour. She'd only been practicing little magicks, so as not to  
get addicted again, but she always felt better cleansing herself after  
every spell.  
  
Tara nodded. "That explains the salt ring in the bathtub. My  
feet hurt after I took my shower."   
  
"Why does it matter, anyway?"  
  
"It doesn't, I just want you to be honest with me. I won't be   
mad, I just think it's important to be honest."  
  
"Well, I'm not, but if I do even the smallest magick, you'll  
be the second to know, aside from the God and Goddess."  
  
"Will, you can te-"  
  
"I'm not doing magick!" Willow screamed, sick of the third  
degree.  
  
"No need to yell," Tara said soothingly, yet a bit hurt.  
  
"Well stop asking, already. Jesus, I'm sick of it."  
  
"Fine, whatever. I'm going to bed. Goodnight." Tara promptly  
turned over and covered herself with the sheet. 'It's hot this time of  
year,' she thought to herself, 'maybe Willow's just aggrivated because  
of the heat.'  
  
Willow walked to the dresser and put her book away, then  
flipped off the lights and crawled into bed. Not a word was uttered,  
no goodnight, no I love you, nothing.  
  
Soon, Tara heard a soft snoring and allowed herself to  
silently cry.  
  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
  
Why had she agreed to patrol with Hope? This girl gave her  
the creeps. Spike just seemed so intent on it, as though it affirmed  
that his sister lived. Buffy looked over at the girl walking beside her.  
'Well, sort of,' she thought. 'I guess you can call that living.'  
  
"It is living. Not that you would know anything about that. You'd  
think you'd tell William how you feel, being in love with him and all. He got  
his soul back for you. More than Angel ever did."  
  
"What?" Buffy turned to question the girl who had pissed her off  
with one little statement. The words 'more than Angel ever did' rang through  
her head. Unfortunately, the girl wasn't there.   
  
"Hope? Where'd you go?" No answer. "Hope?"  
  
"Hey Slayer!" came a yell from behind her. Buffy turned and Hope  
was holding a small golden triangle. It resembled a pyramid. "I learned  
something when I was in Egypt for the first time. There is only one way I  
can survive. Every eight years, I must take the essence of a person to  
survive. It filters into my body and rejuvenates me. It's really an honour.  
You've been chosen."  
  
"Do I get a new car? How about a lifetime supply of Spaghettios?"  
  
"Something much better," Hope replied to Buffy's wit. "You get  
to die."  
  
"Damn. I was hoping for the Spaghettios. Unfortunately for you,  
I don't die easily."  
  
"You don't understand what I mean by die. William was dead before  
you, you know. And that's how you will be. Soulless, remorseless. No longer  
a Slayer. You'll be like Drusilla."  
  
Yep, Buffy's worst fear. Drusilla, just the name sent tremors of rage  
floating up Buffy's spine. "Sorry, I have better taste in men. I like Spike, and  
I have no intention of dumping him for the fad demon of the moment."  
  
"You think Spike will have you? Ha! He'll shun you, like you do him.  
Revenge sucks, sweetie. Bye bye now." Hope began muttering a spell, and  
the pyramid began to glow a bright red. Soon, an eye opened and focused  
on Buffy. Unable to move, all she could do was scream.  
  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
  
Buffy jolted awake, and grabbed the hand on her shoulder. "Buffy?  
Buffy, you were screaming. Are you okay? What happened?" Buffy gazed  
up into Dawn's face and shook her head.   
  
"Just a nightmare. Nothing important."  
  
"Well," Dawn began, sitting on Buffy's bed, "Nightmares with you  
have a nasty habit of coming true."  
  
"I hope this one doesn't, Dawnie. I really hope it doesn't."  
  
"Get ready for school, I'll make you some coffee and we can leave,"  
Dawn said, changing the subject. She rummaged through Buffy's closet and  
chose a nice skirt and suit jacket, and a shirt. "Now all you have to do is  
shower and find heels. Now go. Do that. I makey the breakfast."  
  
"When did you become an adult?"  
  
"When you weren't looking. Now go!"  
  
"Yes ma'am." Soon, the two were on their way to Sunnydale High,  
for a fun-filled day of learning and teaching.  
  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ 


End file.
